


Echo

by becausenobreeches (crucibulis)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:16:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4650192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crucibulis/pseuds/becausenobreeches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tumblr request for Cullen and Trevelyan hurt/comfort. I decided to go with introverted Cullen coping after a large social event.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Echo

The moment Cullen stepped into the room, he wanted to leave. He _seriously_ thought about leaving, because it was the only thought that made itself clear enough in the onslaught of chaotic conversations. Yes, Commander Cullen Rutherford, who had faced down demons and blood mages, and had even on occasion fought against his own templar brethren, stood, still halfway in the door frame, ready to sound the retreat from a dinner party being held in the very keep he called home.

Only the bright smile of the Inquisitor across the room brought things into focus, beckoning him to his side with a wave, just a wiggle of fingers really, something intimate and personal across the vast space of the main hall.

Even with his lover to anchor him, Cullen could do no more than _endure_ through the evening, occasionally excusing himself from the discussions with some noble or another to go fetch himself and Gavin more champagne. It helped having some small, menial task to focus on – something to do with his hands  – instead of the cacophony of the crowd… raucous laughter and venomous whispers alike ricocheting off the vaulted ceiling.

By the end of it, he felt utterly raw, his mind sore and sensitive like a giant scraped knee inside his skull. At the first opportunity, he excused himself for good and headed to Gavin’s quarters, collapsing onto the sofa and pulling desperately at the collar and the jacket buttons of his formal attire. Then he sighed a liberated sigh, head falling into his hands as he sat there with his chest bare, skin finally breathing and drying of sweat in the heat from the fire.

A dip in the cushion beside him alerted him to Gavin’s presence, the rogue using his mastery of stealth to make the room as quiet as possible. Cullen expressed his gratitude by leaning into the touches that followed, fingers gently kneading at his shoulder and working their way up to his neck. He relaxed into each slightly jostling movement, letting the rhythm of it make everything else ebb into the back of his mind. The voices still seemed to echo, a river’s rapids roaring with rain that had fallen miles and miles and miles away.

“Thank you for making an appearance,” Gavin almost-whispered, still massaging at the base of his skull.

Cullen nodded weakly, looking over at him out of the corner of his eye. The rogue had even managed to get partially undressed without Cullen hearing, sitting there in an undershirt and a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. “I know it’s expected for me to be there. As a member of the… _leadership.”_ He sighed again, shifting so he could put his head on the Inquisitor’s shoulder, affection bubbling up in his heart as the weight of Gavin’s head rested on his own, long brown hair cushioning the contact. “I wish I knew why I have such a difficult time with crowds.”

Gavin’s response was barely a shrug. “We all have our strengths.”

Grunting, Cullen added the unspoken end of that sentence. “And _weaknesses.”_

“You’re _not_ weak,” Gavin scoffed. “I’ve seen you in battle. You’re magnificent.”

“I doubt I can use the same approach at parties that I do on the battlefield,” Cullen retorted with a breathy laugh.

“Heh, not without rousing the ire of Josephine you can’t.”

“She’s quite scary when she wants to be, isn’t she?”

“Indeed,” Gavin chuckled.

“I thought,” Cullen started, and then sighed. “I thought perhaps I just needed practice. That it would get better with time. But no matter how many of these functions I attend, it seems to take something out of me. I just feel so _drained.”_

Gavin didn’t say anything else, just crept his hand over his lap to twine his fingers together with Cullen’s, anchoring Cullen to the peacefulness of the moment with the tiny soft touches of his thumb. They sat like that until Cullen started to develop a crick in his neck, and finally he pulled off of Gavin’s shoulder, looking up at the other man.

Gavin’s eyes were dark, yet sparkling in the firelight, and Cullen followed his gaze down to his own bare and chiseled chest. Then he looked back up at his lover, who was licking his lips with the same motion he had earlier in the evening when they’d brought out the Inquisitor’s favorite dessert. After a moment, Gavin flinched, seeming to come to his senses, and then he was flushing and giving Cullen an apologetic smirk. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “I’m ogling you, aren’t I?”

Cullen just laughed at him and bit his own lip, body already reacting to his lover’s lustful gaze. Almost unconsciously, he flit his eyes over Gavin’s form, an invitation that didn’t need to be spoken, a conversation that no longer needed to be had, and the next instant he found himself with a lap full of Inquisitor, Gavin pressing their foreheads together as he very insistently pulled Cullen’s jacket off his shoulders and down his arms. Cullen buried two fists into the back of Gavin’s shirt and pulled the other man further into his lap, tipping his head up with parted lips to meet a soft and sensual kiss. He lost himself in that familiar place where their mouths met, grateful for the calm, solid weight of his lover, and something a bit less menial to do with his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> http://becausenobreeches.tumblr.com/


End file.
